


All The Bigger Things

by GrayJedi11



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: :o i never write first person o:, Angst, Depressed Logic | Logan Sanders, Existential Angst, Existentialism, Gen, Human Logic | Logan Sanders, Human Sides (Sanders Sides), Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Logic | Logan Sanders Angst, Nonbinary Logic | Logan Sanders, POV First Person, although there may or may not be a follow up that might settle that, did i name this badly, idk - Freeform, im going to tag stuff that is technically true in this fic but you cant tell, roman is mentioned briefly, theres like a heck ton of that, this may make you question reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22886821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrayJedi11/pseuds/GrayJedi11
Summary: Logan writes a letter about their opinion on the meaning of life.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	All The Bigger Things

I stared blankly at the date on my phone. 2/24/20 didn't seem real. Today it was 2018.

And 2018 it could be. Time and dates were a figment of our imagination that could easily be replaced. 

Or not easily, considering the economy, government and tons of records.

But those are all the same as time. The government only had power as long as we believe it does. Money only works if we all agree on it. Records are just made up shapes that we're brainwashed to believe have meaning. 

We only have merit and power if we believe we do. Power means nothing.

That's the trick of the human brain, isn't it? Blood gives me power over my body and my feelings. Roman's ideas give him the power of being listened to. But only because we were made that way. But it doesn't really matter.

Humans were conditioned to be social animals, therefore social interaction is generally good. It fulfills our needs, which makes us happy, which makes us live, which makes us reproduce, which makes us… 

That's right. Nothing. If a human's net purpose is to reproduce, how are asexuals here? 

Diversity. Diversity may be your answer, as all species need diversity for survival, but _why?_

To reproduce, that's why.

So there's no point. People are just unique and there's no reason. Uniqueness means nothing. 

I'm telling you, well, me, about this. It doesn't change anything when you step back and look at everything. Everything. Every planet, star, unidentified object and mile of nothingness doesn't care about what I'm saying. Because that's what it's meant to do. It's simply meant to be. 

Sometimes I wonder if it even is. Everything is meaningless. 

Maybe it was never meant to be. Maybe it was all an accident. Maybe the universe is trying to right itself, slowly. Maybe it's just like the blink of an eye for an old, old host to uncountable guests. 

Or maybe it was inevitable. Possibly an inevitable accident. In the infinite time that is as long as at least nothing exists, something had to happen. Maybe it got bored. 

Maybe the universe is meaningless.

Life within this massive, eternal universe seems just as unlikely. But is it? Consciousness is an intriguing thing and maybe we're all getting it wrong. Yet we can't. Consciousness is ours and consciousness is us. But still, it isn't real, merely yet another fantasy. 

Consciousness must be meaningless as well. 

I'm sure you've heard of the butterfly effect. One thing leads to another, to another before everything gets bigger. This is true and false. In our perception, the tiniest movements can surely change what happens in our future. 

But we will always get back to the end, or the beginning.

Therefore, all of this means nothing. 

Yes, the words, but mostly what I can see and feel staring back at me. Blood seething from a recent wound is wandering lazily down my arm. Weight has been pounding on my emotions for years. Six suicidal times in my life since age eight, four suicide attempts. Toxic relationships, foster homes, drugs and alcohol. 

But honestly? Who cares? What cares? Not like "fate" does. The universe will turn cold whether you feel happy or not, and blowing up everything is overexaggerating.

These things mean nothing. 

But there's the wall, still blue. Here's my blanket, still heavy. My phone, still knowing useless made-up code into communication. My friends, still somewhere, probably laughing at Tumblr posts. I am not alone. 

The world is gonna keep on thriving until it absolutely can't.

Stubborn.

If I kill myself today, tomorrow, or the next day, it won't matter. If I leave this world forever… 

I won't mind.


End file.
